


Anemone Hupehensis

by IlluminateandRelate



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Angstangstangst, CCG - Freeform, Flowers!, Ghouls, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Or Is It?, QS, Quinx, Symbolism, Urie has it bad for Mucchan, mutsurie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlluminateandRelate/pseuds/IlluminateandRelate
Summary: The night he was awoken by a sharp cough the time read 3 AM. The night he leaned over in bed clutching his t-shirt with his chest the moon was not to be seen, tucked away and hidden behind dark flaring nimbus clouds. The night he vomited after a mad race to the toilet, the foul acid filling his esophagus like an exasperated stream the stars were dulled by the glaring lights of the artificial city. The night he felt something sharp, something painful dislodge in his chest the house was quiet. And nothing knew of the shaking trembling hand lifting as he sat, back pressed amongst the cool pale tiles of the bathroom. No one knew except Urie, who clutched the small red petal between his index and his thumb, brows furrowed.~ A Hanahaki Disease AU





	1. September 29th

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! So I am super excited to be starting this new fic :DD I love love LOVE AU's and I can't wait to see what you all think of this one!

_ September 29th _

 

The night he was awoken by a sharp cough the time read 3 AM. The night he leaned over in bed clutching his t-shirt with his chest the moon was not to be seen, tucked away and hidden behind dark flaring nimbus clouds. The night he vomited after a mad race to the toilet, the foul acid filling his esophagus like an exasperated stream the stars were dulled by the glaring lights of the artificial city. The night he felt something sharp, something painful dislodge in his chest the house was quiet. And nothing knew of the shaking trembling hand lifting as he sat, back pressed amongst the cool pale tiles of the bathroom. No one knew except Urie, who clutched the small red petal between his index and his thumb, brows furrowed.

He turned the petal in-between them, over and over in his fingers as a flicker of confusion passed through his crinkled features. He rested his hand down on the cool tile, head blissfully cool on the stone tiles of the place. His body quivering from the sickness, legs wobbly with the previous, straining effort. His eyes slid to the right and flickered back over the dark flower petal in his hand, something tugging at his gut, itching at the corner of his brain, begging for attention.

_ Anemone. _

He had seen it in the fields, had seen it in the dark eyes of his mother as she placed them in a glass vase on the table. Had seen it in the bouquet of dark crimson in his hand as he carried it into the office of his father, eyes bright with youth and a foreboding sense of naivety. Had felt the singular buds, soft petals when that naivety had crumbled beneath his very fingers, detached and flown away like dandelion seeds to the wind. The days they fluttered in the wind before rotting in that vase set atop a grave with no body and only a marking.

Yes, that was it. Urie breathed through his nose, slivers of warmth and a sort of peace associated drifting from nowhere but his imagination. Tendrils swooping up and curling into his brain, spreading and wrapping around. A gentle squeeze in his chest with the bite of nostalgia that came with memories.

_ Anemone _

How fitting.

  
  


The next morning Urie woke to the shrill of an alarm, showered beneath the pounding flow of water, dressed in a simple set of clothes, ate and chewed the flavorless food, methodical. The coffee in his cup was bitter and biting on his tongue, Saiko’s voice normally so loud and shrill echoing up and around in a disembodied way rather than piercing his ears. Hige’s words despite reaching new volumes with the low hiss of Hsiao more of a warbled flow than Japanese. He coughed no petals, his lungs inflating as he breathed in, deflating as he exhaled.

And the night felt far, unfamiliar, encapsulated in its own bubble of  _ that _ of  _ something else _ like the forgotten coins left to tarnish behind dressers. The sharp painful coughs abandoned for lungfuls of oxygen- as if there wasn’t a collection of photosynthesizers reaching their green stems around his bronchial tubes- as though the morning was just as dull as any other. If only his throat didn’t taste of blood, if only he could pretend the red petal- shiny and sick with saliva- tucked in a napkin beside his bed was a mere nightmare.

_ If only _ .

Of all seven billion it almost seemed fitting that he should become the point-five percent of the population that contracted the disease-  _ Hanahaki _ . The flower disease.  _ Mutsuki _ .

Urie sipped the ever-cooling cup of coffee before finding the acid burned his raw throat more than he’d originally noticed; he placed it back down, his stare finding his hands upon the table, pale and folded with an automatic precision. The itch was back in his chest now, unscratchable and sharp with insistence and he held his breath to repress a cough, lungs screaming before the urge passed quick and brief as it came and Urie found his gaze drifting out to the window at the yellowing leaves of late summer plants.

He sighed the only summonable emotion a sort of hyper-calm. One that came with acceptance and lack of option- that was it-  _ option _ . Knowing you could survive something, a situation, is what created that life-preserving panic he thought, the throbbing pulse and gulping heartbeats shattering your skull with the slicing of their beats-  _ option _ . Urie knew he had no option.

He stared out at the budding Anemone beneath the windowsill,  _ they would bloom soon _ , alongside the autumn breeze to flutter in the wind. The purples, pinks, reds, indigos. And Saiko would pick them, unaware and unknowing of him-  _ Urie Kuki _ \- suffocating in the soft petals.

  
  


_ Anemone Huphensis (Japanese Anemone) ~  _

 

_ A perennial flower of which blooms in the fall, it is said anemone sprung from the tears of Aphrodite as she mourned the death of Adonis. Red Anemone symbolizes forsaken love. _

 

Inspo: http://dayzzledelatour.tumblr.com/post/177566098799/au-mutsuki-tooru-hanahaki-haise-sasaki-concepto


	2. October 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skkrfsjhksk guys I get in such an angsty composing mood when I write this, its slightly masochistic but also theatrical of me. I think the final chapter should be going up on the air date of :re.
> 
> (Speaking of :re WHat A fuCKInG NIGHtMarE)

 

_ October 5th _

 

The coughing had gotten worse in the short week that past, once a mere annoyance every few hours, once a cough here and there- became bouts of it. The petals had grown more frequent too, spilling out into the handkerchiefs he hacked into side by side with bits of blood to match the crimson color. One day he had even sneezed one out, staring at the crook of his elbow spattered with broken bits of stem.

Each time he tucked it away.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told the others. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to see the faces-  _ couldn’t  _ see them. Life had grown mundane ever since dragon, work became papers piled upon desktops and “sign here” and “write this report” not “fall back” and “deploy your kagune”. Urie didn’t want to be the one to disturb the peace. Not because of a stupid crush.

_ A stupid crush. _

He wasn’t a fool enough to think that, he _wished_ it was just that. Just a schoolgirl crush with flushed cheeks, with warmth, with an addictive squirming anxiety whenever Mutsuki was in proximity. But no, no Urie had been past that schoolgirl crush faze long enough ago to know that it wasn't just that. The flowers proved otherwise, the flowers proved more. The flowers proved that Urie loved him. _Really fucking loved him_. And they proved it would kill him.

Urie signed behind his desk, fingers clutching the edge of the shiny stainless steel with enough force to turn them white. The burning was back in his throat with vengeance, his stomach churning with the perennials alongside that day’s lunch, he would be sick again soon. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, the nausea brewing a new spiking anxiety to jump up into the muscles of his neck and shoulders- tensing them till they shook with the strain.

Mutsuki was visiting today. Now. He was at the chateau  _ now _ . And Urie was here, at work avoiding him. He couldn’t see him, not like this, not now, not while Anemone bloomed in his lungs and climbed in his stomach, and choked him from the inside out. Not when he was  _ this _ , this pitiable, pathetic lovesick little puppy.

Urie laughed through the budding tears forcing their way from the corners of his eyes. His body shaking with the oncoming hack of petals, and he kneeled to the ground, the dry and scratchy carpet pushing against the pleated folds of his dress pants, surely wrinkling the fabric as he keeled on the ground. His lungs convulsed and his back lurched violently all the while, his bangs falling into his vision with every violent jerk of his body.

His fingers scrambled in a wild dance across the countertop of his desk, only pausing when they closed around their prize- a cardboard rectangular box and snatched the thing down. He fumbled for a tissue and replaced his hand for the soft paper, his throat screaming from behind it as it was forced to expel the scratchy leaves and somewhat softer petals. It wasn’t healing like it should’ve been-  _ he shouldn’t even be this ill _ . He was a quinx, nearly a half-ghoul now-  _ he shouldn’t even be infected with this _ .

He felt something free in his chest and the coughing slowed before coming to a stop. Urie pulled back, inspecting the new array of blood and petals as per the new norm. 

_ Perfect. _

He’d just have to make sure he stayed well past closing to prevent himself from seeing Mutsuki back at the Chateau. Looking at him now would only hurt tenfold, the knowledge of his reality so obvious in the pain rocketing through his chest and stomach. Urie was sure it would paint across his face like a string of christmas lights.

 

_____________

  
  


He should’ve known from the moment he’d contracted the disease that he had rotten luck.

If his senses hadn’t been dulled by the overwhelming scent of flora in his throat perhaps he would’ve been able to sense and avoid the other boy but as it stood, Mutsuki stood ( _ sat actually) _ staring up at him from the table, his slender fingers wrapped around the white base of a ceramic coffee mug.

Urie felt his next breath catch in his throat, getting stuck and tickling the raging, delicate, and raw skin at the base of his esophagus. His fingers clutched around the small brass knob of the doorway as his feet stalled just behind the jamb. He stopped just short of dropping his jaw,  catching it at the second to keep it hinged and bolted upright. The only visible sign now the widening of his eyes. He let the hostage breath free itself from his lungs, expelling the air through his nose harshly, allowing a small cough to go with it as if he was clearing his throat rather than scratching the growing itch in the back of it.

“Urie-kun,” The corners of Mutsuki’s mouth turned upward in a pleased smile, his eyes brightening with he act. “Saiko and the others had said you were at the office today so I decided I’d wait.”

Urie smiled back, pretending he hadn’t felt a sickening crack in his chest, as if his lungs weren’t squeezing with a blistering burn, trying with every exhausted fiber to push some of that own light into his expression. “It's good to see you,”  _ That much was true _ . “It's been a while.”

The dry silence hung between them a moment before Urie swallowed once more and stepped into the house, turning around from Mutsuki’s burning gaze to hang his coat on the rack beside the door. He heard the other boy stand up behind him and walk closer.

“How are you?”

“Not bad ( _ terrible),  _ you?” 

“I’m good.”

Urie turned back around again.

“That’s good.”

His words hung dead in the air as his gaze shifted to a second cup of coffee on the table, one he hadn’t noticed before in his original shaken state upon seeing the other boy before flicking them back to Mutsuki’s eyes.  _ Just how long had he been waiting?  _ The thought seized his lungs with vigor and he found himself suppressing the urge to cough now more than ever.

“I was hoping you’d get back earlier,” Mutsuki’s eyes followed where Urie’s gaze had been mere seconds ago as he answered the unspoken question, “I suppose I forgot you’re a workaholic.” He chuckled at his own comment, meandering back to the table to pick up the unattended mug. “It's cold now.”

“Sorry.”

“We always have tomorrow to catch up.”

_ Do we? _

“Yeah.”

More silence and his eyes burned with the contorted effort of keeping the stinging in his chest contained. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow but-”

“Of course.” Something looked displaced in the other boy’s eyes but Urie tried not to dwell on it. Shifting his gaze to the hallway instead. Whatever raged in his body it felt like he housed a demon fighting to get out, scratching at his insides, mauling him internally in its efforts to escape. “Have a good night.”

He started for the hall, foot halfway in when he paused, fighting the urge in the back of his brain, the one that nagged him to explain, to tell him. He  _ wanted _ to talk. To explain his feelings, how they existed,  _ why _ . Maybe if he gave him his words the other boy would receive his feelings.

“Mutsuki,”

But words weren't feelings, they could try, they could mimic, they could only come so close. Words were only used to describe feelings, to try a half-assed attempt at recreating them. Feelings were memories, feelings were uncontrolled and unplaced, and unmanaged. Feelings were the roaring pit at the base of his stomach. The same ones that wrapped his throat and fogged his brain each time he saw Mutsuki. Of the things he'd seen in the other boy- the good and bad. There was enough of it to fill an entire book series with words and Urie still would feel them foaming out onto the shores of his mouth. Pouring from his eyes, his ears, his throat just like the flowers; the flowers in his stomach were the feelings, the feelings with nowhere to go but into napkins and flushed down toilets; the feelings with no-one to hold them so they choked him instead.

“Yes?”

He allowed the corners of his mouth to crinkle upward in a weak smile and shook his head, “Nevermind.”

“Oh,” a pause, “good night then.”

“Good night.”

  
  


The very moment he’d stepped into his room his body let out a violent shudder and he fell forward, fingers desperate and clutching at the cover of his bed as his chest seized, over and over.

  
  


When he finally pulled back through the blurry darkness he saw a full petaled flower resting on his bed, halfway between a stage of odd preservation and wilted elegance.

 

Anemone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty so much for reading :') I love you all TT. Make sure to leave kudos, comment, and share if you enjoyed lil beans <3 <3
> 
>  
> 
> Come scream at me here: http://illuminateandrelate.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> Watch me scream here: https://www.instagram.com/kirishimas.kagune/?hl=en

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being so patient with my shitty update schedule <3 I know this chapter was short but that's was because it is an intro for the rest of the fic. It won't be very long- about five chapters with an epilogue so let's enjoy it while it lasts <3 <3 I love you all :')
> 
>  
> 
> Come scream at me here: http://illuminateandrelate.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> Watch me scream here: https://www.instagram.com/kirishimas.kagune/?hl=en


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